Feed the Birds
by NerdAngel
Summary: A one shot about Castiel (Spoilers for season 8 finale and beginning of season 9).


**A/n: For all of you who follow "He's My Brother," I'm sorry I didn't have a chapter to post today. I'm still working on the ending chapters. But I woke up early this morning and this came to me so I decided to write it and post it.**

 **SPOILER ALERT for the ending of season 8 and beginning of season 9 (sort of). This takes place when Castiel was basically turned human after Metatron removed his grace.**

 **Thank you to anyone who reads, reviews, and/or favorites this one shot.**

 **I don't own Supernatural or its characters.**

Feed the Birds

Being human took maintenance. All the little things that Castiel had found to be trivial to him when he was an angel of the Lord, were now mandatory just to keep himself alive and at least somewhat healthy. He didn't have a roof over his head to call his own and as much as he wanted to find the Winchester brothers, and he knew he'd be welcome to stay in their bunker, he didn't go in search for them. His lack of angelic powers and the thousands of homeless wingless and extremely pissed off brothers and sisters was his mess and he had to be the one to clean it. Of course Sam and Dean Winchester would help him, but the younger of the two had been dealing with his own mess and the elder was sure to be occupied with helping him.

Castiel had found a group of homeless humans not too terribly long after Metatron striped him of his grace, and he had fallen into a normal routine. Wake up, urinate, find food, brush his teeth, walk some more, eat and drink when hungry or thirsty and food and/or water was an option, go to the bathroom when needed, and when he was exhausted, find a place to settle down for the night. He missed not having to do any of this, to not have to be bothered or tied down with having to do the smallest of things to keep his body working properly. Humans were more complex than he had previously thought.

The once angel wasn't in any hurry to get anywhere, for awhile anyways. His mission was to eventually get to Metatron, but for now, he simply seeked out other angels in hopes of helping them. For a few weeks, he had settled in a homeless camp he had stumbled upon and had been welcomed to. Another sensation he'd never felt, cold. Castiel missed his trench coat which surely would have helped against the temperature even if it was just a little. He hugged his sweatshirt he'd acquired tighter against his body as the cool air bit at him.

Along with the homeless camp, Castiel had come across a park. It mainly consisted of lots of green grass, several park benches and picnic tables spread throughout, plenty of foliage, and even a small sand pit which housed a play structure complete with swings, monkey bars, and a slide. The once angel had taken to passing his time people watching at the park. He'd witnessed so many different kinds of people doing all kinds of things. Some would be jogging with headphones fit snug in their ears and their eyes straight in front of them. Others were accompanied by either family, friends, or even pets where they would sit and talk, play frisbee, have a picnic, play on the structure, fly a kite, he'd even witnessed a proposal once. Castiel never interfered, never tried to start a conversation. He simply watched. When the sun began to set, he'd return to his site and rest and then do it all again.

As he was walking around the park one morning, something caught his eye. Rather, his ear first. It was a chirping sound. Looking down not far from his feet, he saw a small finch. It's right wing was inoperable though from what Castiel couldn't tell. He watched as it hopped along, letting out another chirp as it did. It's attention didn't stay on one thing or in one direction long before moving sporadically to another. Around it, other birds had flocked to the same spot, all of which had perfectly functional wings. The once angel didn't pay any attention to the others, he simply stared at the injured bird with a sympathetic look on his face.

"You wanna feed'em?" The sound of a voice caught him off guard and he quickly brought his gaze to see who had spoken to him. A woman who looked to be in her late forties early fifties was peering down at the gathering of birds. Her right hand moved towards a bag that rested on her lap, digging in and spreading seeds on the grass. All the birds hurried to obtain the food before the others could reach it. "Come, sit. Feed them, it's quite enjoyable." Castiel hesitated for a moment, still baffled that someone clearly not homeless wasn't avoiding him like the plague as most of the humans in the park would so often do. The woman dug into the bag once more and this time moved her hand so that they hovered between her and the newly human man. "Hold out your hand," she instructed as though he were a small child. He did so and it was soon filled with the seeds she had once been holding. The once angel looked down at his hand then up to the woman. "Go on then, feed'em."

Castiel brought his hand back towards the birds and dumped the seeds like a waterfall. Some of the finches backed away while others rushed to the now small pile on the ground.

"You do this everyday." It wasn't a question, but an observation. He recognized the woman from his previous trips to the park, however he'd never gotten too close until today.

"I do," she confirmed with a nod. They fell silent and Castiel's blue eyes found the injured bird once again. "That's Wesley," she said having noticed the stranger's gaze.

"Wesley?" Castiel echoed. "You name them?"

"Good heavens no, there are far too many of them," she chuckled. "But that one has been around for a while now, so I named him."

"Has he always been broken?"

"He's not broke , and no. That injury is only a few days old," she informed. Her own blue eyes peering over at Wesley.

"What happened?" Castiel asked as he brought his attention to fall on the woman. She shrugged.

"Same as me. Life."

"You are also injured?" The once angel questioned in surprise. The woman looked fine to him, no sling, cane, wheelchair, or any other signs of something being wrong.

"Injured no. I'm very sick," she responded directly.

"I'm sorry," he said and his eyes and head dropped into a bow. "I wish I could fix you and the bird - Wesley."

"I don't." The answer came at such a shock to Castiel that he couldn't help his head from springing up and giving the woman a baffled look.

"You don't? Do you, enjoy being sick?"

The woman laughed again, this time long and hard to the point the newly made man was concerned she'd die right there. Finally she got herself under control after a coughing fit interrupted her humor.

"No. I most definitely don't enjoy being sick," she finally answered gently. "But such is life. I'm not looking for any sympathy, why do you think I come here and spend my days with the birds? Because everyone I know, my friends, my daughters...they're all sorry. They all look at me like everyday is my last. It's sickening. I'm no different. This illness has made me no different. I'm still the same woman I've always been and the same goes for Wesley." She nodded her head in the direction of the small injured winged finch. "He's still a bird, no different than the rest of'em. He doesn't need sympathy. He's done remarkably well on his own in fact. Of course I make sure he's been fed, but he takes care of the rest. I'm not going to coddle him just because he's handicap, I'm going to see to it that he gets his share of food and the rest is up to him." She turned to face Castiel, her expression serious. "That's all we really need, a little bit of guidance from someone who cares. Not to be smothered in emotion."

The once angel hadn't seen anyone quite like the woman before him. Her method, though far from the one that he'd grown accustom to and shown by his best friend towards his sibling and even him sometimes, made sense to him as well. Humans were far more complex than in just the way they operated. They were in thought as well as in opinion. He watched as the woman continued to feed the finches, no words came to his mind so no words were said further. The two sat on the bench and fed the birds until just as the sun began to set, the woman wadded up the now empty bag and stuffed it in her coat pocket.

"Well, that's all for today my friends," she said as she glanced down at the remaining finches. "Until our next meeting." She then looked over at Castiel with a warm smile. "Now, for you," she said. The woman dug into her coat pocket on the opposite side where the empty bag was and pulled out some money, holding it out in Castiel's direction.

"That's not necessary," he remarked putting his hand out as if to stop her.

"You mistaken my intent. I don't pity you, I'm guiding you. I can't very well feed you bird seed."

"I don't need it. Really."

The woman smiled and for a moment she looked young again. "Well then if you won't take tangible guidance, perhaps you'll take some verbal. Every time you fall, simply get back up." Castiel grinned at the woman and nodded.

"Yes, that does make sense to do should you fall. I would assume if you don't get back up and remain where you fell, you'll likely die from starvation or dehydration." The woman chuckled.

"Until our next meeting."

Castiel spent his following days at the park feeding Wesley and the other finches with the woman. They didn't say much and names were never given, but the newly human man found he didn't need any of that. He simply enjoyed the company of another as well as watching the finches hop along the grass chirping merrily. Every day the woman would leave him with some words of guidance that would seem obvious to the once angel, but he appreciated it none-the-less.

One morning, he arrived at the park and found it was fairly empty. There were two women with strollers who were sitting and talking on the bench that he and the woman usually occupied. He watched them for awhile before turning his attention elsewhere. When they had started up on their walk again, Castiel made for the bench. He sat and watched the birds hopping around and chirping as they normally did, Wesley among them. His eyes moved between the gathering of the finches and around the park. By the time noon came, he figured the woman was having a particularly rough day with her illness and the chances were slim that she'd make an appearance. Once nightfall arrived and she still hadn't shown up, he began to worry.

The next day he made his usual walk to the park only to find the bench empty once again. Castiel made his way over and sat down in his usual spot, a half eaten sandwich he'd acquired earlier still in his hand. The finches were there, but he couldn't help but notice there were less of them. A chirp sounded off next to his shoe causing him to glance down and smile.

"Hello Wesley." He greeted. The bird's beady eyes looked up at him, waiting. "I'm sorry, I don't have any seed for you," Castiel apologized. The finch continued to stare and chirp, the others along with him. The once angel glanced down at what was left over of the leftover sandwich and began to pull off pieces of the wheat bread. He gently tossed it in Wesley's direction and after moving quickly out of the way as not to get hit with it, the bird snatched it up and gobbled it down. Castiel spent the remainder of the day picking slowly at the sandwich and feeding it to the birds. When the sun began to sink down in the sky, the once angel got up from the bench, looked down at the few finches that remained, then up at the sky. "Until our next meeting."

 **A/n: I hope you enjoyed this one shot. Thank you for reading!**


End file.
